Birthday Games
by Belfast Docks
Summary: They couldn't do this in one of Yahiro's guest rooms. Could they? Well... it would be excellent revenge against Yahiro for making Hikari IT yet again. Kei/Hikari, Lemon


**Author's Notes, Warnings, & Other Disblaimers**

**Rating:** That would be **M**, kiddies, so cover your eyes and skid-addle if you don't want to read lemony, graphic, sexual situations.

**Pairing: **Kei x Hikari

**This fic is based on the _Special A_ manga, not the anime!** If you're only familiar with the anime, and you decide to proceed with this story, that's fine. But you need to be aware that Kei's grandfather does come to terms with and accepts Hikari by the end of the manga (something that was not shown in the anime, obviously).

**Random Notes****:** This started off as a stream-of-consciousness from Kei's perspective and morphed into a PWP. I wish I could defend myself better but, alas, your brain starts degenerating when you live in the gutter after so long.

* * *

><p><strong>Birthday Games<strong>

* * *

><p>Sometimes it was a mere glance from across a crowded room of sloshed clients. Other times, it was the slight tilt of her head at the dinner table while his grandfather went on about company matters. And then, when he least expected it, sometimes he would simply enter his office and find her sitting on his desk, smiling that certain little smile that he had long come to associate with her playful mood. Or he would stagger into their bedroom after a long, tiring day, to find her waiting for him in the middle of the bed, wearing something only Sakura could have dug up from the depths of hell to torment him.<p>

It hadn't been an overnight process, obviously. Back at the beginning, just kissing Hikari sometimes sent her into a tailspin. But if nothing else, Takishima Kei was patient. He might have spent most of his final year in high school trying desperately not to rip her clothes off, but he was definitely patient. And bit by bit, Hikari's nervousness had melted away: a coaxing kiss that led to a string of kisses; a string of kisses that led to his tongue finding its way into her warm mouth; her tongue finally slipping past his lips in response. It had taken a little bit, but that hadn't mattered – that first time Hikaru's tongue touched his, he was certain his blood couldn't possibly burn hotter or pound more loudly in his ears.

(He had been wrong about that – the first time he walked into his Japanese headquarters office after a demanding, stressful meeting, only a month after they had been married, he'd found her sitting in his chair wearing nothing but one of his button-down shirts. Somehow she'd bribed Aoi into keeping everyone else out of the office until he came back, just so she could surprise him. He'd literally dropped his laptop, cell phone, and briefcase while he stood there gaping at her, and only when she'd laughed that adorable laugh of hers, did he snap out of his stupor and realize he had a full-blown hard-on, and damn it, he was _going_ to take her on that desk. Afterwards, when she snickered that she'd won a round for a change, he flushed and informed her that she would pay for it, too.)

Graduation had taken their relationship a little further. They were finally out of school, and he was antsy to get her alone. While hiding behind the conservatory, a string of desperate, tongue-tied kisses had led to her hands sliding beneath the collar of his shirt. He hadn't been able to think clearly when that happened, or he probably would have stopped himself. But when Hikari's fingers skated over his damp skin and went over his collarbones, pushing his shirt slightly open, his only thought was to touch _her _skin. His hands had roughly pulled her blouse from her skirt and delved beneath; palms rushed firmly up her torso until he was cupping her satin-clad breasts; he heard her gasp into his mouth and he'd felt the way she stiffened in surprise. He'd dropped his head to her shoulder and, gritting his teeth and trying to _breathe, God, just breathe Kei, breathe_, he'd dragged his hands all over her body beneath her uniform – down and up her back, her shoulders, breasts, ribs, her quivering, taut belly. She'd stuttered and moaned his name so many times in that encounter, and in ways he'd never heard his name said before by anyone, that it was really a wonder she didn't lose her virginity right then.

It took a bit to get her past that, though. She'd been embarrassed – not because he'd touched her so sensually, but because she'd enjoyed it _so much_. When she finally managed to stutter out the reason her embarrassment, two bloody weeks later, he'd only smirked at her and found the time to skive off with her for an afternoon. They were scheduled to marry within a month anyways, and most of that day was spent in a haze of him trying not to take things too far. Touching Hikari was easy; having Hikaru touch _him_ was _insanely difficult_. She was shy at first, and that made it worse in many ways. Her fingertips would hesitatingly open the buttons of his shirt, before brushing down his torso, his arms, across his extremely sensitive nipples. Every time his breath hissed inward through his teeth, she'd would jerk back and ask if she'd hurt him. Which was silly, really. She couldn't possibly hurt him physically. Torture him, yes. Hurt him, no.

Then came their wedding – which was one of those ridiculously extravagant affairs that _reeked_ of too much involvement from 1) his mother, 2) his father, 3) Akira, 4) Sakura, and 5) (God help him) Yahiro. It had lasted hours, contained a guest list that went on into infinity, an open bar that desperately needed to end before it even got started, and by the time it was two in the morning, he was long past ready to get the hell away from everyone, get Hikari into their hotel suite _alone_, and relieve _years_ of pent-up lust. Even then, he'd had to carry her out amidst protests (apparently he was just in the knick of time, too – he had inadvertently discovered that Hikari, her father, and _his_ father were about to have a pro-wrestling match in the center of the ballroom, and never mind that his new bride was in a wedding gown that cost a damned fortune! He most certainly didn't need his grandfather demanding an immediate divorce, so he'd swept Hikari up in his arms, ignored his mother's drunken laughter, his father's whining complaints that he wasn't being fair, and left without saying another word to anyone).

That night was easily the best night of his life. Hikari had blushed furiously when he'd finally set her on her feet in the hotel's penthouse suite, and after a long, awkward pause, in which her blush traveled down her neck and chest, and his breathing grew slightly heavier as he stared at her and then suddenly ripped his tie off, she'd stammered that she needed a moment alone, and rushed into the bathroom.

He'd been startled and, left alone in the luxurious, spacious bedroom, he'd found himself looking into the mirror on the gilt vanity a few seconds after she'd rushed out. He'd taken the time to unbutton his shirt and pull his cufflinks off, and he couldn't help but take in his reflection. The silly smile across his face, the way his eyes seemed to burn and dance. _He was finally alone with Hikari. Any minute he was going to be in bed with her. In bed with her, stripping her clothes off to feel her smooth skin sliding against his..._

She stepped out of the bathroom a few minutes later, wearing nothing but a little scrap of white lace, her entire body pink and slender and supple, _God he wanted to touch her_. He almost came in his pants then; it was a wonder, really, that he hadn't.

She'd muttered something about Akira and Sakura buying whatever it was she was wearing, while her eyes had resolutely fixed on the strip of his skin showing from where he'd unbuttoned his shirt. He loved it when Hikari stared at him, but it didn't stop him from smirking arrogantly and asking if _Nii-san_ saw anything she liked. Her eyes had snapped back to his instantaneously and he thought for a moment she was going to yell at him for using that infernal nickname, but no – thank God, she met him in the middle of the room instead, kissed him hard on the mouth, and began tugging frantically at his shirt, pushing it away from his shoulders. He'd heard the fabric rip beneath her fingers and he didn't remotely give a damn, because his hands were running firmly up her thighs and over her hips, until he found the corset-like ties in the back of her lingerie and began yanking them loose. The motion had brought her hips into contact with his and he groaned deep in his throat, lips still fused with Hikari's, as his erection pressed into her pelvis. _So close._ He brought his hands around to her front and cupped her breasts, rubbing his thumbs over her erect, aching nipples. She gasped and moaned at the contact, and he pushed her backwards towards the bed. He tripped at that moment, because she'd worked the front of his tuxedo slacks free and had pushed them down his legs to his knees, and they had collapsed together on the bed. During those few seconds, he'd simply stared down at her, trying to wrap his brain around the fact that she was really here, that he wasn't dreaming or having yet another bloody fantasy, that she was desperate to undress him, that her hair was spread haphazardly across the fluffy comforter and her chest was rising and falling heavily, inches from his own. And she was wearing a white piece of silk that barely hid important things from him. Her nipples were barely visible through it, hard and jutting against the cool fabric, and he bent his head and began to kiss along her neck, her collarbone, her chest.

Hikari had gasped his name when he reached one breast and tugged on the tip with his teeth. Her hands had tightened in his hair, her body curving into his. He'd pushed her further up the bed, kicking his shoes and pants free, needing to feel her skin flush to his, sticking to his from a sheen of sweat. She'd moaned and twisted and writhed beneath his hands and mouth; he dragged it out as much as he could, but it wasn't nearly as long as he originally intended. Simply having Hikari naked beneath him drove everything out of his brain except the thought of fucking her senseless. He couldn't go slowly; his body just took over and afterwards, when he mumbled something about being a right arse for not pleasuring her more, she had laughed and twined herself about him, and told him she was ready for another go.

Oh yes, it had definitely been the best night of his life. And the next morning had been just as perfect, really. He'd woken with Hikari twisted in his arms and the sheets a tangled mess around their legs. Only the thought of getting her to his private estate in Hawai'i had been able to entice him to wake her up so they could catch their plane, but even then Hikari made sure they were delayed by another hour or so, because she twisted to face him and gave him that small, pretty smile that she reserved just for him, cupped his face, and began to drag slow, lazy kisses across his lips until they were both panting and desperate for each other again.

Since then, it seemed as though nearly every day of their marriage was laced with some little surprise or another; whether it was Hikari wearing a new piece of lingerie or maybe just that seductive little smile from across the room. And it was _always_ those little things that really got to Kei. His work didn't suffer because of Hikari, as his grandfather had once supposed it might – rather, his work went more fluidly when he knew Hikari was around to help him take the edge of stress off.

_Just like now_, he thought, watching her laugh with Sakura and Jun across Yahiro's ballroom, wearing a pale, mint-green strapless gown that shimmered under the lights. What would he do first? _Slip his hands under it_, he thought idly. He'd push the layers of poufy chiffon up to her knees and drag his fingers up her silky legs to cup her soft mound and slide his fingers into her slick, slippery heat. Was she wearing underwear? A corset? Did they match? Or maybe she had _nothing_ on under it...

He suddenly remembered to breath; the man he had been talking to was going on about something or other but God help him, he couldn't remember what. It was almost always the same conversation, so it probably didn't really matter – anyone who met the heir to the Takashima Group was always so thrilled to have the honor, blah blah blah, etc, etc. He had just made up his mind that it was time to politely excuse himself, when Yahiro called for silence across the large ballroom.

Kei turned and scowled. Every year was always the same; he had no reason to believe this year would be different, and it reminded him that he hadn't really wanted to come to the event in the first place. Hikari, damn it, had insisted.

_He'll thank everyone for coming to his birthday gala..._

"Thank you all for coming to my birthday party this evening...!"

Kei twitched slightly. Yahiro may have married Megumi, but he was still Yahiro. And just Kei's luck, he'd decide to play that old, stupid game of reverse tag for "nostalgia's sake", or something equally ridiculous. Exhaling sharply through his nose, Kei nodded politely to the man he had been trying (and failing) to listen to, giving a murmured excuse about needing to find his wife, and slipped off behind the crowd before the man could even offer a response. He skirted the ballroom while everyone clapped and congratulated their host, and within a few seconds, he reached Hikari.

Gently taking her elbow, he got her attention. She looked pleased to see him at first, but as he began to steer her away from the other guests, her smile changed to a slight frown. On the grand stairs, Yahiro said something about what a great year it had been, and called for Megumi to join him so that his guests could see his beautiful wife.

Hikari protested under her breath as she and Kei reached one of the doors leading off of the ballroom. "What are you doing?" she hissed.

"Getting out of here," he muttered in response, slipping through the doors as quickly and quietly as possible.

No sooner had they entered the empty corridor and Kei closed the door behind them, when Yahiro announced that it would be immensely fun to _play a game_.

"Hey!" Hikari grasped at her long skirts as Kei walked faster down the plush carpet, practically pulling her along. "I wanted to see what he was going to play this year!"

"We both know the answer to _that_. And we both know he'll make _you_ IT."

He opened a narrow, nondescript door at the end of the hall and ducked into the servants' stairwell, pulling Hikari along with him and upwards.

"Where on _earth_ are we going, Kei?" she complained, almost tripping over her skirts again. "You're being ridiculous! Oh, this is impossible –" She paused, snatched her hand out of his and grabbed her skirts with the intention of ripping them.

Kei's fingers closed around her wrists and pulled her hands away from the frothy material. "_Don't you dare_," he growled.

She stiffened, clearly annoyed, and snapped, "You can't tell me what to do!"

"You rip apart more clothing than anyone I know! These dresses aren't cheap, Hikari!"

"But it's harder to run in them when they're so long and poofy! And _you're_ the one pulling me up the servants' stairs!"

That didn't deserve a response. Instead, he picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder; it would be faster if he carried her anyway. All he knew was they had to get away from the ballroom. Yahiro wouldn't hesitate to make Hikari IT even if she _hadn't_ been in the room. And as he started upward again, he heard, distantly, the sound of doors slamming open and the shouts of slightly drunken laughter.

_They were out of time...!_

Hikari was snarling, her hands fisted in the back of his suit jacket as he moved up the tight staircase; she ignored him when he told her to be quiet, and by the time they reached the fourth floor, he was about ready to rip those infernal skirts himself, because they kept puffing up into his line of vision.

He darted into the fourth floor corridor and glanced about. It was dark and quiet – no one had made it up this far yet. Frowning, he made his way towards a door near the middle of the hall: an unused guest bedroom. _Perfect_. One of several dozen in Yahiro's mansion. He slipped inside, dropped Hikari on the bed, went back the door, locked it, and moved a dresser against it for good measure.

"Are you _insane_?" Hikari looked livid. "You just don't want me to win the challenge, do you?"

"You won the damned challenge the first time you played Yahiro's idiotic game," he reminded her coldly, remembering perfectly well how she had made it the roof without getting caught.

"We don't even know if he picked me to be IT, Kei! We weren't in there when he announced whom he'd chosen! You're being silly –"

Her voice broke off as a door slammed further down the corridor and several male voices could be heard along with heavy footsteps.

"...don't know why he made her IT, she wasn't even in the room!"

"...he's just trying to piss off that husband of hers, that's what he's doing."

"...what was she wearing? Green? Bluish, maybe?"

"...yeah, and strapless too."

Kei pinched the bridge of his nose without really thinking about it; he was going to kill Yahiro one day, he just knew it. If he didn't kill the low-life scum on the opposite side of the door first, talking about his wife the way they were...

Hikari shifted on the bed. He heard her movement rather than saw it, and he turned and crossed the room to join her, sinking onto the silken coverlet with an almost exhausted air.

He felt her hands press into his shoulders and slide down his front; then her mouth skimmed the rim of his ear and he inhaled sharply.

"Or..." she breathed, "did you bring me here for something else?" Her lips sucked his earlobe for a moment before she nuzzled the soft spot on his neck, and then moved further down; placing wet kisses on his pulse.

Kei tensed, his body taut and strung and his mind reeling. They'd been married two years now, but Hikari could still turn him on in just seconds. His erection twitched beneath his slacks and he tried to breathe. They had more important issues to deal with! Like Yahiro!

But her hands were drifting lower down his torso, reaching the cummerbund around his middle, and his brain was slowly disengaging. Billowing clouds of her dress seemed to be all around him; he closed his eyes to try and focus, but it didn't work. Her hands continued their path until her right palm pressed upon his crotch, rubbing and smoothing out wrinkles in his pants while his teeth ground together and he fought to keep any semblance of sanity. They _couldn't_ do this in one of Yahiro's guestrooms.

Could they?

Well... it would be excellent revenge against Yahiro for making Hikari IT yet again, he thought darkly.

But then all thought evaporated when Hikari sighed contently in his ear. She was still massaging him, her chin resting on his shoulder, and she murmured, "I've been thinking about this all night, Kei..."

His brain jammed completely. _Oh God, mayday!_ She'd been _fantasizing_ about him? Nothing could turn him on faster than that!

His mouth dry, he managed to stammer out, "What, being in one of Yahiro's guest rooms, alone with your husband?"

"Mm. No, just being alone with my husband," she purred. "I really don't care where we make love, just so long as we _do_." Her right hand found the zipper on his pants and tugged until it was open; her left hand moved around and found the hooks on the cummerbund and unfastened them, and the silken fabric slipped away to the floor. Still rubbing her right thumb on his length, with his boxers between them, she moved her left hand again and unhooked the button of his slacks.

"Get your pants off, Kei," she whispered in his ear, and her hands suddenly released him. "_Please_."

He realized he had been painfully holding his breath; he released it and stood up to kick his shoes, pants, and boxers off. When he turned to find Hikari, she was still in the center of the bed, reaching behind her to unzip her dress. He stiffened, remembering his earlier fantasy while he'd watched her across the ballroom, and he climbed up and pinned her down, his hands reaching beneath the billowing skirt of chiffon and crinolines to find those silky legs. Hikari gasped and toppled backwards into the pile of pillows as Kei disappeared beneath her dress, his mouth skimming up past her knee to her inner thigh. He could smell her: that tangy, delicious scent of her body was overpowering and intoxicating.

He heard footsteps running outside the door but ignored them; Hikari wasn't wearing _anything_ under her dress and as his eyes found her bare center, he realized he was nearly insane from lust. His lips pressed against her swollen, sensitive puffs of flesh; she was already _so_ juicy. He began to thrust his tongue inside her, tasting and drinking her. She kept shifting, desperate to get her dress off and desperate not to cry out, and he finally released her, crawled out from under the skirts, pulled the dress down her legs, and tossed the mass of fabric over the edge of the bed.

She wasn't wearing a bra, either – likely, the dress had one built in, but he didn't care much about that one way or the other. Her hands were already tugging at the buttons on his shirt and he was sinking between those long, sleek, toned legs, his erection throbbing to get inside of her.

Someone rattled the doorknob to the room at that precise moment, and Hikari's eyes widened in panic and snapped towards the noise. Kei, however, ignored it and shucked his shirt off, hiked her legs over his hips, and brushed the tip of his cock to her dripping cunt.

"_Hikari_," he whispered.

Her eyes snapped back to his and she gritted her teeth to keep from making any noise; if she did, they would be found for certain.

A voice, muffled through the heavy door, muttered something about the room being locked.

Sweat dripped down Kei's temple as he eased himself into her, the door rattled again and another voice said, "_Leave it, there was one back down that way that was locked, too_", before the footsteps hurried on down the hall._  
><em>

"_What if they come back?_" Hikari breathed.

He shook his head and thrust deep, his hips snapping to hers. Her head went back, exposing her throat, and he bent and suckled the hollow.

"_If they come back_," he hissed against her skin, "_I'll kill them._"

Hikari thrashed around him, biting her lips to keep silent, her legs locking about his waist.

He drew back and began a hard, deep rhythm, hips grinding into hers, his scrotum slapping her dripping skin. Her breasts bounced every time he pounded her back into the comforter and pillows; her taut stomach brushed his and made him groan with need. The doorknob twisted again but the dresser held firm; Kei caught Hikari's mouth with his to keep her from screaming as he moved his hand to her center and dragged a finger down across her tight, quivering clit, pressing it against his length. He felt her arch against him and swallowed her scream.

As he pulled back out, he released her mouth, shifted position, and pushed her legs up over his shoulders. He slid forward on his knees, his cock slick from being inside of her, and he drove back in, his head falling back in pleasure. Hikari's ankles crossed behind his neck and he could hear her panting beneath him as he thrust, rocking into her and feeling her stretch around him.

_So good..._ He swallowed, his erection positively throbbing. He wasn't going to last long; sometimes he just couldn't. Hikari whimpered and bit down on a pillow to keep quiet, her body damp with sweat and her hair fanned out around her. _So beautiful..._ He buried his face against her knee and thrust roughly; her hips actually lifted off of the bed to meet him, and sweet, clear liquid dribbled over his thighs from her sudden orgasm. When he came a few seconds later, so hard he saw stars behind his closed eyelids, he had to catch himself to keep from collapsing on her. Hikari managed to uncross her ankles and she grabbed his shoulders, lowering him to the bed, and he fell onto his back, panting. It was several minutes before either of them spoke, and to his annoyance, he could hear Hikari's smirk when she finally did.

"Feel better?" she purred.

"Much," he grunted, keeping his eyes closed.

"The bed's wet," she pointed out. He felt her shift and sit up next to him.

He cracked one eye open and observed her lifting her long, damp hair off of her neck. She was still flushed, her eyes a little glazed and dark and sleepy looking, and he mentally told his cock to cool off. They'd be here all night if he didn't keep himself in check again. As it was, they were going to have a hell of a time getting out without Yahiro noticing.

Still... served the git right, making Hikari IT again. "_And_ it smells like sex," he added, closing his eyes again and smirking at the thought of Yahiro discovering their tryst.

"Honestly, Kei. Yahiro's going to kill you."

"You were here too, you know."

He could hear the frustration in her voice. "Yes, well... I mean... You dragged me in here, Kei. It wasn't like I had a lot of options."

"Keep your voice down, unless you want him to walk in and see you like that," Kei responded. Not that he _wanted_ anyone else to see his wife naked, of course, but damn. Hikari's figure was ten times better than Megumi's. Maybe Yahiro liked the fact that Megumi was so petite that she looked like a little girl, but Kei definitely preferred Hikari's plump breasts and long body over Megumi's child-like appearance.

There was a sudden, polite tapping on the door, much different from the rattling doorknob earlier. Kei tensed and Hikari jumped; a measured voice from the corridor said baldly, "Kei? Did you drag Hikari off before the game started? That was awfully naughty of you. You ought to be punished for ruining my birthday."

"_Yahiro_..." Hikari whispered, gazing at the door warily.

Kei sat up and began glancing about the floor for his pants, and said, "And if you try to open that door, I'll ruin your birthday even more."

"And if you left a mess in there, I'll just send the bill to you, shall I?"

Kei twitched with annoyance. "Or I can just leave a blank check on my way out."

Yahiro's voice was still calm; which was really irritating. "Megumi thinks the two of you were fooling around in there. I told her surely _not_ – I mean, you would have more propriety than that..."

"He doesn't," Hikari answered dryly.

Kei's irritation spiked as Yahiro suddenly started laughing – loudly and almost hysterically.

"Good God! Seriously? You're horrid, Kei! Did you really think I wouldn't notice you escaping out the door with her when I started the game? But I didn't think you'd be so stupid as to have sex in my mansion! What _would_ your grandfather say?"

Kei was about to respond (and hotly, too) when Jun's voice sounded from the other side of the door. Contrary to his usual cheerful, polite self, his tone was now rather tight. "Megumi just won a new dress," he stated darkly.

Kei pulled his boxers on; behind him, Hikari was struggling into her dress. Yahiro might annoy him, but he was frankly amused that Jun was there too. Curiously, he asked, "What was Yahiro going to win if he was right and Megumi was wrong?"

"I don't want to think about that," Jun snapped. "She is my sister, you know."

"Sex," Yahiro answered plainly. "Involving leather."

"Oh God! Shut up, will you?" Jun sounded furious. "Is that all you people think about?"

"It's all _I_ think about," Sakura's voice purred from the hallway as well.

Kei glanced at Hikari – she'd closed her eyes and she muttered under her breath, "This is such a nightmare. I'm going to kill you, Takashima."

He couldn't help it – the use of his surname caused him to burst into laughter.

"What's so funny _now_?" Yahiro asked.

"Nothing. _Nii-san_ is annoyed with all of you standing out in the hall."

The sound of breaking china echoed from the bedroom, followed by the inevitable, "_Don't call me Nii-san!_"

"If that was the Ming Dynasty vase," Yahiro snickered, "You can add that to the blank check, Kei."

Kei snatched the door open, now fully dressed and completely composed, and smiled at Yahiro, Megumi, Jun, and Sakura, all of who looked surprised at the calmness in his expression and the fact that he wasn't nude.

"Very well," Kei said pleasantly, pulling out a paper slip from within his tuxedo. "Here's the check. To tell the truth, I filled it out before we even came over tonight – I figured it would come in handy before we left. Well! Happy birthday, Yahiro. Many returns."

And, smirking, he dragged a bright red but fully dressed Hikari out into the hall and headed toward the stairs. It was time to get home, and thank heaven they wouldn't have to come back here for another year.

**~FIN~**


End file.
